


Royal Blue

by Hannigrammatic



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #JustFuckMeUp, Blow Jobs, Car Sex, Eat The Rude, Especially if he's your husband, JustFuckMeUp, M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 06:44:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7158008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannigrammatic/pseuds/Hannigrammatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal's idea turns into one that Will regrets agreeing to. Mostly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Royal Blue

**Author's Note:**

> My fourth and last contribution to #JustFuckMeUp fest :D This one was super fun to write ♥ Bit shorter than usual, but I wanted something simple!
> 
> Not beta read ♥

Hannibal’s new Bentley is royal blue, and sits innocuously on the side of the street. The windows are tinted black, and yet-

“They’ll hear us,” Will complains, face flushed so heavily that he can feel his cheeks burning.

“Not if you keep your voice down.”

The man’s smirk is incorrigible and too sexy for Will’s brain to take in. His mouth pops open as he stares at Hannibal, crouched between his naked thighs. Maroon eyes glitter bemusedly before the man opens his mouth and sucks Will’s cock down in one go.

The sound that leaves Will’s mouth is strangled and high pitched, and his balls draw up reflexively, tight and sensitive as Hannibal palms them in a circular motion.

_When he mentioned having sex in the backseat, I didn’t think he meant on one of the busiest streets in the city_.

Will tries to keep his eyes shut, but they’re open again in seconds, and he watches people walking by the window. Likely no one even imagines that there are two men having a romp in the car, parked where it is outside of a busy cafe. Hannibal’s tongue flattens against the underside of his cock, pressing firmly along the thick vein there. 

“Fuck,” Will hisses.

One of his hands reach down to pull at the man’s short-cropped hair, finding it difficult to gain proper purchase on the silken strands. He’s trying to stay quiet, trying not to rock his body into the wet cavern of Hannibal’s sinful mouth. And Hannibal? He’s doing his damndest to make him lose control, sucking him hard when he draws up and has only the tip in his mouth. His tongue teases the leaking slit, and when the younger man’s body jerks, oversensitized, he merely holds on tighter, gripping behind sweaty knees. He lifts Will’s lower body, and in the air, he has no ability to thrust into or away, held in limbo.

“Fuck you,” Will growls, shoving at the back of Hannibal’s head.

Hannibal doesn’t budge, grins sharp-teethed around the cockhead, before drawing off completely with an exaggerated pop. He licks the underside, tracing that same vein with his tongue, down to the base, and then he nibbles gently at Will’s inner thigh. He allows his darling exactly fifty seconds to catch his breath before mouthing at his balls.

Will keens loudly, other arm gripping the car door behind him. His toes curl at the thought of a cannibal handling his most intimate, sensitive parts. Often it becomes easy to forget about that part, being married to the man for three years now. Even despite the mutual thrill of the hunt, the eating part still hasn’t sunk in as it should have -as he hopes those sharp teeth _don’t_ as those luscious lips trail up his cock once more.

“Now, now,” Hannibal purrs, after bestowing a lick to the tip briefly. “Be patient, dear one.”

Will wants to tell the man to take his patience and stick it up his ass.

Instead, Hannibal sucks one of his long fingers wetly, and sticks it up _Will’s_ ass. No subtlety there, just a curt thrust of his index finger passing the clenching rim of his hole. He crooks the digit and expertly finds the bundle of nerves inside, and then Will’s feet are bumping at the ceiling of the car, entire body housing a tremor of which has most of his limbs attempting to flail. His head falls onto the seat and his mouth opens on a _very_ loud curse.

Someone stops in confusion and peers at the car, looking straight at them. Will’s heart jumps into his throat and his ears turn pink even though he knows they can’t see him. Unless they come closer...and press their face right up against the window.

“Hann-”

Another finger slips into him easily, aided by the familiarity of the motion. They’ve fucked more times than Will can even pretend to know, and their bodies have adjusted to each other just as their minds have.

The unexpected guest leaves quickly, stride hurried and eyes wide. Their silhouettes would have been apparent, but not the details. For all that person could know, someone was being murdered, not fucked on long, scissoring fingers. Will growls again and scratches his fingers over Hannibal’s scalp, while he simultaneously uses his toes to press his body down onto the fingers. The Bentley rocks gently with the motion.

Hannibal pulls his fingers out of the greedy hole and climbs up his body, flattening the smaller man onto the car seat. He spits into one hand, jerks his cock a few times, and then lines himself up with his husband’s body, engorged head kissing twitching, puffy hole. He waits for angry blue eyes to snap onto him before thrusting inside slowly, feeding the body each inch with their eyes meeting in a battle of lust and challenge. The older man is aware of the fact that the stranger who had peered into the car may alert someone.

Better to finish this quickly, then.

Will’s hair is longer, not by much, and certainly not as long as it used to be. The curls are still easy to latch onto, and Hannibal uses the grip to force the snarling mouth close. Their teeth clack together, and then Hannibal forces his tongue passed Will’s lips without preamble when they open in shock. His cock slips in the last few inches until he’s flush inside the hot, stubborn body beneath him. Outside, person after person strides by, and the car begins to rock steadily.

“Slower,” Will yelps, pulling away from the kiss.

Hannibal’s pace is fast and primal, bordering on brutal. In response, he moves quicker, drawing out in a smooth motion and then slamming back home. A whimper escapes kiss-swollen lips. 

When he comes, Hannibal growls loudly, proclaiming his pleasure and grunting as Will’s body milks him dry. Will is close behind, but he covers his mouth with both hands, tears dotting the corner of his eyes. The mess of his spend splatters his belly, nearly reaching the shirt rucked up to his chin. 

The Bentley stills.

“You’re an asshole,” Will informs his husband, who is already pulling out to tuck himself into his pants, mindful of the mess as much as he can be.

He moves away, locates Will’s discarded slacks, and uses them to wipe at the man’s belly. Blue eyes darken, a storm of anger clouding them, and Will opens his mouth to bitch his husband out -and that’s when they hear a knock on the window. It’s a police officer, leaning down and attempting to look inside.

“Now look what you did,” Hannibal sighs.

“Excuse me?” Will is horrified and also beyond pissed, his body still tingling pleasantly from being thoroughly fucked: and his hole is starting to leak, Hannibal’s come beginning to ooze out of him.

Hannibal Lecter grins like the cheshire cat, before he _opens_ the back door and slips out, leaving it cracked ajar as he beings to speak to the officer in French. The uniformed man’s brows are furrowed while he gestures at the car window, and then a tiny smile tugs at his stupid officer face. He walks away, and Hannibal shuts the door and then climbs into the driver side.

“What the fuck did you say?” Will demands immediately, sitting up (secretly pleased that he’s now leaking on Hannibal’s precious leather seat.)

“I told him that I was trying to help you change your clothes after an unfortunate accident.”

_Asshole_ , Will doesn’t say.

“I know,” Hannibal Lecter chuckles, regardless. “Now, let us go home. I’m rather hungry now.”

Will sighs longsufferingly.


End file.
